


Alternatively...

by SinisterScribe



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU in the extreme, Drabblish, F/M, Henry is a brat, I don't even remember where I was going with that, I don't know I haven't posted in a while, I replaced Graham because he'd bite Emmet otherwise, Rule 63, Swan Queen - Freeform, gaysona, genderbent, probably the reason I don't write romcoms, random bits, y'all seem to like Strange Case for whatever reason, yeah that's a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8652418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinisterScribe/pseuds/SinisterScribe
Summary: I started to write this around about the same time I started Strange Case but this one never really took off because...well, I don't have to have a reason for everything. 
Anyway, I have been absent for MONTHS because moving house and rearranging my life and generally becoming a successful member of society (very much a work in progress) and thought my peeps might like to just read SOMETHING from me even if it's not their (or my) fave ship. 
So here we are with a different opening scene for season 1 had it been written by me and Emma/Emmet wasn't a total ass and Regina wasn't quite so batshit in the way that she is. I mean, she's still five gallons of crazy in a three gallon bucket but...it's always worked for her so I got nothing. 
Henry's still a brat though because that's just the way he is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HI ALL!
> 
> Apologies for the absence. As mentioned in the summary; moving house, new job, new life, living outwith my means in a house made of cheese...it's just a never ending adventure. 
> 
> I had meant to write, I really did, but it just didn't happen. 
> 
> It's been a lot of chain-listening to Hamilton and Joanne, watching the whole of Warehouse 13 and missing all my onlineys (day 63 without internet, morale is running low) so this is a gentle hello and a reminder that I am not dead. 
> 
> As always, Emmet is played by Michael Fassbender a la Stelios from 300.
> 
> Enjoy.

**_Driving to Storybrooke…_ **

 

Henry risked another glance up at Emmet and then quickly away.

This was not at all going how he thought it might.

Emmet Swan, his dad, was _pissed_.

He drove with one arm propped against the window of the battered Hummer and his hand on the two o’clock position of the wheel. His other hand occasionally rested on the stick shift or clenched into a fist on his thigh. His jaw was a line of granite it was clenched so tight and his blue eyes seemed icy cold as they glared at the road.

Henry opened his mouth, stalled, and then closed it again.

He didn’t know what to say.

Of all the ways he’d imagined meeting his dad (he had a dad!) would go, he had never factored anger into it. He’d never thought that Emmet Swan (Henry was still getting used to the man that was truly one of his parents having a name) would be _angry_ with Henry for coming to find him.

Henry flinched when Emmet lifted his hand suddenly to flick the turn signal.

Emmet did a double take down at him and his gaze flicked between Henry and the road for a minute whilst he negotiated the turn East back towards the coast and the road that Henry assured him Storybrooke was on.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Henry looked down at his hands throttling one another on his lap.

“I know.” He mumbled.

“Do you?”

“Yeah.” Henry’s voice cracked. The Saviour wouldn’t hurt him.

Would he?

Henry hadn’t expected the Saviour would ever get angry with him either but…there it was. He hadn’t expected that Emmet would immediately turf Henry into his car and start driving back towards Storybrooke before Henry had even had a chance to _explain_ what was going on.

To start with, Henry had been happy to have Emmet come with him, that was what he wanted after all, but the longer they sat in the car and the colder and angrier Emmet had seemed to become…

Henry was increasingly aware that he was in a car with a complete and total stranger.

He wished his mom was here.

Henry scowled at that thought.

No he didn’t.

He _didn’t_.

His mom was evil. She didn’t love him. She was lying to him. She’d lied to him about everything so why not that too? She lied about who she was and the whole town and how there wasn’t a curse and…she lied. She was evil. She didn’t love him.

She didn’t.

It was all pretend.

“Listen, kid…” Emmet let loose a slow breath and lifted his free hand to scrunch it through his hair. He shook his head. “This was so unbelievably stupid of you.”

Henry’s head snapped up and he stared at Emmet.

“I mean, what were you thinking?!” Emmet glared down at Henry. “Do you have _any_ idea what could have happened to you?!”

Henry’s mouth dropped open and worked for a moment.

“I had to come and get you.” He finally blurted. “I had to.”

“You couldn’t have called?!” Emmet looked between the road and Henry again. “Seriously though, some kid claiming to be my son, I’d have investigated that. You could have called and asked me to meet at your _house_. With your _mom_ there. Do you have ANY idea how crazy she has to be with worry right now?!”

“She doesn’t care about me!” Henry’s hand clenched on his knees. “She’s evil.”

“There’s no such thing as evil!” Emmet snapped. “There are bad people and they can do bad things but I HIGHLY doubt that a woman that spends as much money on you as your mom evidently does, a woman that feeds you well and teaches you how to be smart enough to get from a town in the middle of nowhere and across a _city_ doesn’t care about you! She’ll be terrified! The whole town is going to be looking for you I bet. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ll have caused everyone by doing something so SELFISH and STUPID?!”

Henry gaped. He hadn’t…thought of that.

“She won’t have done any of that.” Henry looked down at his knees again and shook his head. “She doesn’t love me.”

“Of course she does.” Emmet snapped and turned down another road. According to the SatNav, this was about five miles from the Middle of Nowhere that Storybrooke apparently occupied. “If she didn’t love you, she wouldn’t have raised you.”

“You don’t know her.” Henry scowled. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“ _I_ don’t know what it’s like?” Emmet took his eyes from the road to spare Henry a glare. “I know that your mom’s done her job right if you have NO idea how much trouble you could have gotten into by coming to get me. Jesus Christ, kid. Anything, any _one,_ could have happened to you. What the hell were you thinking?”

Emmet let loose a gusting sigh and switched hands so he could prop his elbow on the frame of the door and rested his head against his palm. He was damn tired and the stress of this whole progeny business wasn’t helping.

“I was thinking that knowing my dad might make things better.” Henry mumbled and Emmet stiffened at that.

He risked another glance at Henry and saw the kid looking down at his hands again. He worried his lip in his teeth and Emmet felt like a heel for being so hard on the kid but…it really was stupid what he had done and he _did_ deserve to be yelled at about it.

Emmet gusted another sigh and scrubbed his hand over his eyes.

“Just…we’re nearly there, alright. We’ll sort this out when we get you home.”

“It’s not my home.”

“Don’t be a brat.” Emmet’s irritation came back full force and he resisted the urge to pull over so he could shake the boy. He had NO idea how good he had it.

Emmet felt a surge of relief when the sign for Storybrooke, Maine, came into view.

Hot on the heels of that relief came a sudden clenching of panic.

Now he had to give his son back and…never see him again.

Emmet’s jaw clenched.

He was suddenly reminded as to why he’d had no intentions of ever having kids.

They hurt too damn much.   

****

**_The Manor…_ **

 

Wow.

That was Emmet’s first thought on seeing the kid’s mother.

The front door came flying open and she bolted out of it, completely ignoring Emmet and focussed entirely on one thing.

“Henry!” She grasped him by the shoulders, relief evidently pouring through her and then replaced by adrenaline rush shaky anger. “Where have you _been?!”_

Henry said nothing, face drawn into a frown and wrested himself from her grip. He ran past her without another word and disappeared into the house.

She, Regina Mills apparently, twisted to watch him go and –just before he lost sight of her face- Emmet could see that her son’s rejection hit her like a kick in the gut and he felt a stab of empathy for her.

“Uh…hi.” Emmet cleared his throat when his voice seemed wobbly all of a sudden.

Alright, so she was attractive, she was a _fox_ , but he’d seen and been with attractive women before. Tended to be hip deep in them most of the time looking as he did. It wasn’t arrogance that let him know that he was a draw to the opposite sex, he had two eyes in his head, owned a mirror and had a wealth of evidence to draw on but…wowzers, there was just something _about_ her.

She rounded on him suddenly, eyes smouldering and Emmet swallowed hard.

Not in fear but…wow. Just wow.

She frowned a little, studying him from head to toe and then her eyes narrowed.

“Who are you?”

“Sorry.” Emmet shook his head sharply as if to clear water from his ears and stepped forward, holding out his hand. “I’m Emmet Swan, I’m from Boston and –apparently- I’m, uh, well…”

“Regina Mills. Are you always this articulate?” She drawled, not impressed, but she took his hand anyway and gave it a firm shake.

Good handshake. He liked that in a woman. Not many of them knew how to do it.

“It’s been a day for me, okay?” Emmet didn’t snap at her but his voice was immovable. She released his hand sharply and he regretted his words. “Listen, I just had a little boy turn up on my doorstep and tell me I’m his long lost father and…y’know, it kind of threw me a little.”

She looked at him with an entirely blank expression for long pounding moments and then finally blinked. She did it as an afterthought, like she’d belatedly realised that it was creepy for other people if she didn’t.

“His…father.”

“That’s what he said.” Emmet shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t know I had a son. I honestly didn’t. If…he is mine.”

“If?”

God, she wasn’t giving him anything.

Emmet glanced up when a _huge_ man filled the doorway. Emmet’s gut clenched, the kid hadn’t mentioned a man. This guy was a freaking tank. Older –too old for Regina- her father maybe? The man stepped out of the house and down onto the step and his uniform came into view.

Sheriff.

Oh. Emmet ignored the relief that poured through him at the thought that this man…whatever.

Emmet shifted, uncomfortably aware of how he looked. He was really beginning to regret not getting changed out of hi gaysona or at least scrubbing off the bulk of his makeup.

“I’m going to check on the boy.” The Sheriff’s voice was deep and gruff. A thick beard was clipped close to his jaw and a truly impressive handlebar moustache punctuated each word he spoke.

Regina half turned to see the Sheriff looking Emmet up and down and snorting in dismissal before turning away and heading into the manor after Henry.

She turned back to this stranger claiming to be her son’s father and frowned a little.

“You can’t be his father.” She shook her head.

“Uh…why not?”

“Because no grown man should look as ridiculous as you do.” Regina folded her arms over her chest, still frowning and studied him properly.

Shampoo commercial hair, expertly done makeup (but –still- _wearing_ makeup), tight jeans, tighter shirt and brown boots that had a lot of heel for a guy already topping six foot. He had a surprisingly masculine face though. Strong brow and granite jaw with a dimpled chin. It was all offset by the long hair and eyelashes and full mouth but he hadn’t _quite_ attained the androgyny that he was apparently going for.

The man shifted uncomfortably under her perusal and cleared his throat.  

“Well, it’s my name on the birth certificate and I…remember the woman who put the false name on the mother’s side.”

She frowned a little at him.

“He’s my son.”

“Not disputing that in the slightest.” Emmet held up his hands. “But I do think we should have a conversation. He came all the way to Boston to find me and…he’s SO lucky nothing happened to him. I think if I have the chance to properly talk to him, it might stop him from repeat performances.”

Her frown remained for a long moment and she –briefly- nodded.

“You had best come inside then.”

She didn’t beckon him in or anything nearly so friendly –which he understood- but she did disappear into the house and hold the door open for him.

Emmet summoned a smile for her as he stepped inside and glanced around.

Money. Lots and lots of I-write-cheques-and-the-bank-bounces- _old_ money. Alabaster walls and clean lines and marble floors with clean carpets. Tasteful pieces of art here and there but most of the pictures hanging on the walls or propped up on their frames on nearly every flat surface were either of Henry by himself or Henry with Regina and nearly all of them featured the pair of them grinning broadly.

Genuine smiles, Emmet noted. He knew plenty enough about fake smiles to recognise one at five hundred yards.

“Shoes on or off?” He looked down at Regina and raised his eyebrows.

“Off.” She glanced down at his feet and then her eyes clambered all the way back up.

Emmet cleared his throat and told himself not to blush. He hadn’t blushed since he was sixteen, he wasn’t going to start now just because this woman was looking at him like she wanted to devour him and spit out his bones.

And _why_ was that even attractive?

Emmet hopped from one foot to the other, removing his ankle boots and propping them neatly by the front door. He shrugged out of his jacket and gave it to her when she held out her hand. Again, it was as if she belatedly remembered how to act like a human being.

He supposed he could understand. It had been something of a day of revelations for him too. Finding out that your son had jaunted off to an entirely different city to find a DNA donor that had contributed precisely dick to his life up until now (heh, literally) then having that very man turn up on her doorstep was…y’know, a bit shitty.

She hung up his coat and turned without another word, leading him deeper into the house. He padded after her on silent socked feet and noticed that the trend of _money_ continued.

It was a little unnerving to him, he felt huge and awkward and grimy in such a nice house –a leftover from his foster kid days- and pushed the feeling down. He wasn’t that gawky awkward brat anymore. He didn’t make a LOT of money but he made enough. Enough to support a kid, certainly.

Not that she needed the help –at all- by the look of things but he’d do whatever he could for the kid.

If she’d let him.

“Drink?” She turned to him with something of a smile, seeming to relax a little now that she was on her own turf.

He glanced at the decanter in her hand and shook his head with a small smile.

“No thanks, I’m driving.”

She cocked her head a little and he hunched his shoulders.

“I don’t drink at all if I’m driving. I know I could have some but I just…don’t.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and felt awkward and gawky again. He tried to shove the feeling down again but this tiny, gorgeous, self-possessed woman just set it to welling up in him every two fucking minutes.

“Interesting.” She set the decanter down and didn’t take any for herself. “Coffee then?”

“Coffee would be great.” And talking in the kitchen would make him feel less like he was going to stain something just by being.

“Very well.” She nodded and passed him to head to the kitchen, she shot him an unreadable look when he followed her rather than wait to be served but didn’t protest so he didn’t stop.

He _did_ grind to a halt when the Sheriff reappeared, looming over Emmet on the bottom step of the stairs leading down from the upper floors. He raked Emmet with another condemning glance but his entire demeanour softened when he turned to look at Regina.

“He’s tired but fine. Bedding down just now.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.” Regina gave a small but genuine smile.

“Call me if ye need me.” The Sheriff dipped his bearded chin in a nod, narrowed another look at Emmet pointedly and then made for the door.

Emmet relaxed only once the door had closed behind the man and reminded himself several times over that he was a full grown man and could handle himself perfectly well. He’d been in worse scrapes with scarier guys…hadn’t he?

“Are you coming?”

Regina’s voice shook Emmet from the feeling of his hair standing on end all over his body and he turned back to follow her into her kitchen.

The kitchen was… _great_. Emmet loved food. Couldn’t cook worth a damn but he did love food and some of his fondest memories of multiple foster homes had been helping in the kitchen. He had been relegated to the stirring, pouring and other no-talent-involved tasks, but he enjoyed it anyway.

“You like it?”

Emmet whipped his head down to look at her switching on the coffee machine.

“You have a lovely home.”

“I know but you were uncomfortable in the living room and that’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen from you since you came in here.” She looked surprised at the admission from herself so she leaned back against the counter, folding her arms over her chest and crossing her legs at the ankle.

“I just like kitchens,” he shrugged easily, relaxing a little, “and yours is big enough to hold two people which is more than I’ve got.”

“And what do you have?” She arched an eyebrow and his expression went blank.

“I’m not here to be bought off.” He told her firmly. “I make enough money, I just chose to spend it on a huge leather couch and an equally oversized hi-def TV. I don’t want anything from you.”

She narrowed her eyes a little and hummed low in her throat.

“And Henry, what do you want from him?”

Emmet inhaled a deep breath and was saved from answering right away when the coffee machine beeped and she turned away to pour them both a cup.

“Cream? Sugar?”

It was all so terribly civilised.

“Black is fine.”

“But you want both.” She cocked her head as if even she was surprised that she had seen that and he stalled in the act of taking the cup from her.

“I can live without.”

Her chin kicked up but then she moved the cup away from him and went to the fridge to fetch the cream anyway. Actual cream too, none of this watered down milk nonsense.

He watched her make his coffee the way he liked it (was four sugars a guess or was she trying to give him diabetes?). Her hands were steady, her movements confident, her fingers slim and her wrists delicate.

“Thank you.” Emmet accepted the cup from her when she held it by the base so he could take it by the handle. He didn’t want her to burn herself. He took a cautious sip and his brows rose. “Hazelnut? No…nutmeg.” He frowned and then smirked. “And chocolate.”

She seemed surprised that he had picked that out and hunched one shoulder in a shrug before dropping it.

“I might add chocolate coated coffee beans to the grinder sometimes.” She made the admission lightly but his smile broadened anyway.

“I’ll never tell.”

“Hmm.” She smiled and then it dropped from her mouth when she remembered herself.

Emmet’s smile dimmed too. He had preferred it when she enjoyed his company.

“You truly didn’t know about Henry until today?” Her voice was quiet.

Emmet shook his head.

“Not even a hint. His…I hesitate to say mother, but can I use that for simplicity’s sake?”

She blinked, surprised and he hurried to explain.

“I mean, technically, I’m his dad,” Emmet jerked his head towards the stairs to indicate Henry sulking somewhere in the upper floors of this palace of a house, “but I didn’t raise him. I don’t have the right to call myself that.”

_Yet_. Emmet clamped down on that treacherous and hopeful thought before it could fully take form. There was no point in being hopeful, it only ever led to disappointment.

Regina sipped from her all black coffee and considered him a moment.

“I’ve always been ‘mom’ or ‘mommy’…you can call her his mother if you wish.”

“What I wish to call her is not repeatable in mixed company.” Emmet flashed her a tight smile and he decided to just go for it when she rocked her head back in surprise. “Her name was Donna Cassidy. We met when I was seventeen and she was nineteen. We…”

Emmet looked at her for a long moment and shrugged his shoulders. He set his coffee cup on the counter looked down at the floor.

“I think you deserve the truth.”

Regina said absolutely nothing, one arm folded across her stomach, holding onto the opposite elbow and her coffee cup held at the level of her chin. She just watched him.

“We were crooks. Thieves. I was fresh out of the foster system and she took me under her wing I guess. We made a living whichever way we could that –more often than not- involved ripping someone off.” He held up his hand. “Never violently. It was slight of hand and tricks, we stole from chain stores and…and I’m trying to make excuses for having no moral fibre whatsoever.” He smiled tightly and scrubbed a hand through his long hair. He swallowed hard and forced himself to continue.

Again, she just waited him out.

“Anyway, looking back I suppose I should have known better than to trust a crook, but she betrayed me. I was eighteen and she set me up to take the fall for one of her deals.” His mouth twisted. “Now I find out that she…had my son and gave him away before I could…do anything about it.”

“And what would you have done?” Her voice was quiet and she seemed surprised that she had engaged him in conversation at all.

“I’d have done what I did anyway.” He picked up his coffee and gulped some down. It was delicious. “Learned my lesson, served my time, got my act together, made something of myself. Never looked back.”

“Until now.”

“Until now.” He nodded.

“I’m surprised you’re admitting all of this to me.” She clacked her nails against the side of her mug. “A little foolish, don’t you think? Giving me further reason to want absolutely nothing to do with you.”

“I think lying and then you finding out later would be worse.” Emmet drank more of his coffee. “I’ve made enough mistakes in my past. I mostly try to learn from them and not screw up repeatedly. At least…not in the same way.”

“I appreciate your honesty.” She mused almost to herself. “It’s…surprising.”

“I hope pleasantly so.” Emmet gave her something of a grin and her lips quirked for an instant in response.

“Not the word I would use but…not as bad as it could have been. How long were you in prison?”

“My sentence was three years but it got put up to five for bad behaviour.” The thought came to Emmet unbidden that he would have been released in time for Henry's first day of school and that  _stung_. That he had missed that. That he had missed  _everything_. 

Regina may have read something of that in his expression because she swallowed her first response and said something else instead. 

“Wow. You’re really going for this honesty thing.”

“Well, you know, I thought my reasons were valid.” Emmet looked away from her. “Not fun being a pretty boy in prison. You get real mean real quick to stay pretty.”

She froze, her cup halfway to her mouth and then her eyes rose to his.

“I was never…” He looked away from her. He'd never been able to handle pity. “I’m not trying to get you to feel sorry for me. I’m trying to tell you the truth so you know me a little better. I was a bad person for a long time and I did bad things when I thought -when I _was_ \- protecting myself. I hospitalised eight guys before my message sank in. I’d do it again in a heartbeat in the same situation. Donna betrayed me in every way a woman can betray a man and I made a promise to myself never to be a victim again.”

Emmet let loose a cavernous breath and rubbed at his face. He stared at nothing for a moment and gave a wry chuckle.

“I don’t tell people this.”

“Understandable.” She cocked her head and smiled a little. “I can’t decide if it’s brave or stupid though.”

“That was years ago. I’ve changed. I really have. I have a good job –two of them actually- I live in a nice neighbourhood, I have hobbies, I watch sports, I’m not an addict, I don’t gamble, I don’t drink excessively and my tattoos are easily hidden.” He grinned at her when her brows rose. “No, I’m not telling how many or where. There are limits to my sharing.”

She huffed something like a chuckle and sipped from her coffee again.

“This sounds dangerously like a résumé. What is it you want, Mister Swan?”

“I want to know Henry.” The words seemed to just pour out of him and he decided that he’d come this far… “I’m not asking for custody nor do I have _any_ desire to take him away from his mom but…it’s hard to explain. I can see me in him and –growing up the way I did- I’ve never had a family before. Never. It’s so weird to look at someone, that little guy, and know that we’re related. To know that we share the same blood and I don’t want to let go of that.”

She frowned and sipped from her coffee again.

“I promise you that I won’t take him away. I won’t even try. I just want to know him. I’m his father, yeah, but…I dunno. I guess I just want to try and earn being his dad.”

“You want to…earn it?”

“For sure.” Emmet nodded.

“And how will you do that from Boston?”

“I’ll visit.” Emmet answered without hesitation and she frowned.

“It’s a four hour drive.”

“I’d drive ten.” Emmet swallowed hard when he realised he meant every word. Every syllable.

Her brows rose.

“Every weekend?”

“If you’ll let me.” He nodded.

She frowned.

“I want to stay tonight.” Emmet added on quickly. “In the local motel or whatever and talk to Henry tomorrow.”

“You’ve had four hours to talk to him.”

“We didn’t talk much in the car. I was pretty pissy with –well- the way he’d treated you.” Emmet pressed his lips together. “There was a point in my life where I’d have given anything to have what he does and he just…threw it back in your face.”

“Yes. Well.” She looked away from him and down into her coffee cup. “That’s become a recurring theme recently.”

“That’s what I’d like to talk to him about.” Emmet admitted. “I want to tell him how lucky he is and how…how _unbelievably_ grateful I am that he has a good home and a mom that loves him and everything that every kid should have.”

“And you really think you can get through to him?” There was something very like wary hope in her voice.

“I want to try. He needs a reality check, that’s all. You’ve done your job, he has NO idea how good he has it.”

She smiled a little but it was sad.

“So…is that okay?”

She pressed her lips together and considered a long moment. Slowly, she nodded.

“Great!”

“One. Conversation.” She held up her hand. “And I’ll be there.”

“Of course.” Emmet was a little confused as to why she had thought he’d expect otherwise.

“We can…assess afterwards.”

“Excellent.”

“You’ll agree to anything at this point, won’t you?”

“Yes.” He admitted. “So, please don’t take advantage of my naivety.”

Her lips quirked in a smile and he beamed at her in response.

“Very well. I’ll give you directions to the guesthouse.”

“Thanks.” Emmet, sensing that was his cue, pushed off the kitchen counter and padded out into the hallway and towards the front door.

 He hopped into his boots and shrugged his jacket on. He grinned down at her and she seemed a little thrown by that but rallied herself and opened the door for him.

“It’s pretty much a straight line from here to Main Street. Once you get to the clocktower, take your first left and second right. It’s a green building. The sign out front says ‘Granny’s’.”

“Thanks.”

She nodded to him and stilled when his fingers brushed her elbow.

“I mean it. Thank you for everything.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Sure you have.” He gave her a lopsided smile but sensed she was all talked out. “We’ll talk more tomorrow and –oh- this is my cell.”

Emmet patted himself down and then pulled an eyeliner pencil from his pocket and picked up her hand. She made a small sound of surprise but he ignored it as he scrawled his cell number across her palm.

“I could have given you paper.” She looked down at the blocky black lettering on her hand.

“Yeah, but you’re a half inch from drop kicking me down Main Street so I didn’t wanna push it.” He stepped out onto the front steps and grinned at her again with that ridiculous Hollywood smile of his. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Mills.”

Her mouth did that quirk thing that meant she was amused but didn’t want to show it.

“And I you, Mister Swan.”

He grinned at her again and then turned down the path, rattling his car keys from his pocket.

Regina watched him go with mixed feelings and pressed her lips together.

She should have chased him away. She should have threatened him with all sorts. She should have used any of the excuses he so readily handed to her to get rid of him but…but all he wanted was a family.

Part of her shrieked that he couldn’t have _hers_ but another part pointed out that –if she came at him claws akimbo- he’d fight if she tried to chase him off. He’d already admitted that he fought to protect himself. If she threatened him, he’d do it again.

No, she belatedly closed the door, best to make platitudes. Best to promise him the bare minimum until she could think of another way to deal with him.

She let loose a breath and ignored how nice she had found his smile.

And she _would_ have to deal with him.

She couldn’t afford not to.

Regina sighed and slowly released the door handle, turning to head back into the living room. She’d skipped the drink before but now she felt in need of it. It had been a long and frantic day and now she faced the prospect of…dealing with a man she found herself almost _liking_. She let loose a slow sigh and kicked off her heels.

_I was a bad person for a long time and I did bad things when I thought -when I_ was _\- protecting myself._

Well, didn’t that sound familiar.

_I just want to try and earn being his dad._

Had she not thought the same thing about being Henry’s mother?

_I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Mills._

Yes, he would and…and part of her, no matter how small, was looking forward to it.

Regina rubbed at her eyes as she padded towards the living room and the abandoned cider decanter. It had been a LONG day and she felt like she was crumbling.

She had imagined this happening. She was plagued by nightmares often, one didn’t become an international terrorist without accruing some serious baggage, about Henry’s birth parents coming for him, taking him away from her, leaving her helpless to do anything about it. No magic to fight for him, the dreams twisting the legalities until she was defenceless against a pair of younger, perfect, _good_ people that had become parents through love and…

Regina shook it off. It was nonsense. If the law hadn’t decreed it, she’d have declared Henry as _her_ son until her dying breath. She’d fight tooth and claw to get him back. She’d destroy anyone that would try and take him from her. They had no _right!_

But, a treacherous voice whispered, Henry was stolen from Emmet first.

And therein was the crux of it.

Regina could only imagine the pain that Emmet would feel at having everything that he _could have_ had shoved in his face. A wonderful boy like Henry, a good son, _family_. According to Emmet, that was all he had ever wanted growing up and now he had just found out that a woman he had thought he loved had taken it all from him before he’d even known he had it.

And Regina had thought that _she_ was cruel.

She didn’t want to like him. She shouldn’t like him. She CERTAINLY shouldn’t sympathise with him but…

…but she did.

Regina put her face in her hands and sucked in a deep and measured breath. She was a mess. It had been a long and terrifying day. She had thought the person she loved most in the world gone from her protection and her life, not knowing if he was alive or dead and…

The sob caught her by surprise and she lowered a hand from pressing an eye closed to cover her mouth.

Henry couldn’t hear.

Her shoulders shook and she struggled valiantly to hold it in but she just ended up convulsively shivering.

Shock. It was shock. Adrenaline turning sour in her stomach now that she’d had a moment to stop and _think_ about the day. She shook all over and grimly held herself up with one hand over her mouth and the other clamped over her stomach.

Don’t be sick. Don’t be sick. Don’t you _dare_ be sick. Mother would be…

Regina snapped her eyes open and sucked in a huge breath.

“Mother isn’t here.” She whispered, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. She told herself again in a much firmer voice. “Mother isn’t here and she can’t hurt you anymore. She can’t hurt you. She can’t hurt Henry. You. Are. Safe.”

_Breathe_. Just breathe.

It took long moments of standing there, repeating to herself that her mother was dead and she couldn’t get to her or Henry, until she felt calm enough to open her eyes and face the light again. She let loose a slow breath, inhaled another and exhaled again.

In and out.

In and out.

Calm.

Down.

Regina let another slow breath out and her tremors finally died to nothing. She breathed deeply and evenly and calmed herself further and –when she felt like she could take a step without her leg simply buckling beneath her- she made a move for the kitchen.

She didn’t need cider anymore. She needed sugar.

That would help. That would help with the shakes.

Regina convinced herself that all of today’s problems could be solved with judicious application of her friends Ben and Jerry and made her way carefully to the kitchen with deliberate and precise movements.

Calm.

Down.

She missed Henry crouched at the top of the stairs. Missed how he had seen her entire and silent meltdown. She missed thoughtful almost worried look that crossed over his face.

She was far too consumed with the thought that –now she had finished panicking- the thing she felt most was…alone.


End file.
